Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“No worries. Go,” Dad says. “I can’t wait to see the finished product. You did a great job.”
Layla blushes. “Thanks.” She gives me a chaste kiss. “See you at home?”
“Yeah, I need to swing by the studio for a bit. Want me to pick up dinner on my way home?”
“Sounds perfect.” She takes off with Simon while the guys and I head in the opposite direction. We’re wrapping up the album today, and Earl asked us to come by to get it all finalized.
We’re all deep in the music when my phone rings. “Give me a second,” I tell everyone, hitting answer. “Hey, Shutter—”
“He’s gone!” she cries over the phone.
“What? Who?”
“He’s gone! David took him. He took Felix. Beatrice has called the police, but he’s gone. He took him to the bathroom, and they never came back. Simon and I have looked everywhere, but we can’t find him.”
“I’m on my way,” I tell her, jumping out of my seat. “Where are you?”
She gives me the name of the restaurant, and after telling the guys what’s happened, they insist on going. More eyes can mean locating him quicker. On the way, I call our parents and fill them in. When we arrive at the restaurant, a few police cars are there, and an officer is talking to Layla. The second she sees me, she throws herself into my arms.
“I should’ve known he would do something like this. He’s made so many threats.” She sobs into my chest while I rub her back, wishing I could magically make Felix reappear. Of course he doesn’t own any electronics like a phone, so there’s no way to track him.
Because of the situation and the restaurant footage, we’re able to get an emergency missing child alert sent out as well as file a missing person’s report. The police promise to follow up on any leads, and then we’re sent home since it’s clear they’re no longer in the restaurant.
A little while later, the police let us know David isn’t at his house or at his parents’. Layla asks about his assistant, and they confirm she hasn’t seen him.
“They have to be somewhere!” Layla cries. “I just don’t know where to look.” The look of helplessness in her features damn near kills me. She wants to be out scouring the streets, but we live in New York. They could be any-fucking-where.
I hold her all night until she finally cries herself to sleep. And then I hold her until I pass out, praying for Felix’s safe return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LAYLA
It’s been two days. Two days without hearing my little boy’s voice or seeing him smile. Since David walked him to the bathroom and they never returned, instead, going out the emergency exit. It’s been two days of the police looking for leads, our family and friends searching anywhere we can think of. Even Kaylee came home to be with me.
But Felix and David are nowhere to be found. I’ve cried to the point that it feels as though my tear ducts have dried up. And of course morning sickness has decided to rear its ugly head, so between crying and searching, I’ve spent my time with my head in the toilet.
“Here, try this,” Kaylee says, handing me a lollipop. “It’s for morning sickness.”
I’ll try anything at this point, so I pop it into my mouth. “Thanks.”
“We’re going to find him,” she says, her eyes meeting mine.
“I know.” I nod, hoping my positive thinking will make a difference. “If you need to get back to work…”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t need to be anywhere but right here with you.”
“Thank you.”
The day is spent with us being spoon-fed information on leads that don’t seem to ever pan out. Camden suggests offering a cash reward for any leads, but the police are wary it will only make their job harder by causing a lot of false leads.
By day four, Camden insists we put out a cash reward, saying he’s not leaving any stone unturned. He posts a picture of Felix on his social media and offers a million dollars to the person with the tip that leads to us finding him, along with a phone number they can call so we can weed them out.
It’s late, three in the morning on day five, when I pass out from exhaustion, still not any closer to finding my son. I’ve tried calling and texting David, and Camden had a guy he knows try to track him, but his phone must be off or dead because it’s untraceable.
I get up, groggy and in need of having to pee. When I glance at the time, I see it’s seven in the morning. Camden left me a note that he’s gone out to get breakfast. Through all of this, he’s made sure I’m fed and taken care of, knowing I’m not in a place to do it myself.